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“Bro, sure,” he said, slapping me on the shoulder.
“Now, about the charges.” Coach’s voice rang with authority as he turned to look at the detective who had been here last night. “I want them dropped.”
“I’m afraid it’s not going to be that easy,” the detective replied coolly.
And just like that, any relief I felt from being let out of that cell evaporated with the knowledge they might force me back.
8
Arsen
You know what annoyed me?
A lot.
But right now? These cops.
How dare that asshole with the ugly tie look at Matthew and imply he was gonna get locked up again. Over my cold and dead body.
Also, I wasn’t sure what was worse: what was mine standing there in some other man’s hoodie or him flashing his rock-hard nipples to the entire room.
Both sucked.
But I guess the nipple flashing was slightly worse because, as much as my fingers itched to rip that navy fabric right off Matthew’s body, I didn’t. It should be my hoodie he wore. Me keeping him warm.
If I wouldn’t get arrested for indecent exposure, I’d rip this shirt over my head and shove it down over his just to have a piece of me on him too.
“What do you mean not that easy?” Coach Resch asked.
“Your swimmer assaulted an officer?—”
“For fuck’s sake, Paul. It was one punch—” Coach was cut off by the bad tie dude.
“That’s Detective Paul to you.”
“There’s extenuating circumstances.” Coach pushed.
Detective Paul’s eyebrows shot up. “Circumstances that would excuse assault?”
Coach pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Would you stop saying assault.” Dropping his hand, he swung his gaze to Matthew. “Prism, tell him about your condition,”
The second I looked at him, I knew he was taking a nosedive into the same place he’d been last night. Again, I didn’t understand, but just like before, it didn’t matter.
I moved without thinking, stepping up to his side, and anchored my hand around the back of his neck. I kept the pressure firm, tight but not too tight.
His eyes were full of uneasiness when they lifted to mine, and though he didn’t touch me, it felt like he’d reached inside my chest and fisted my heart.
“Remember what I told you.” I spoke quietly. “I’ll do the talking.”
“I don’t want to go back in that cell.” His voice was too low to even be considered a whisper, and I was greedy for that tone. For those words meant only for me.
In a room filled with people, including his brother and coach, it was me he confided in. Me he showed the fear deep in his eyes.
“I won’t let that happen, princess,” I promised.
“Prism,” Coach called, impatient.
I knew the man was anxious to get this taken care of, and his frustration was understandable, but impatience was something Matthew did not need.
